Need You More Than You'll Ever Know
by walter-needz-luv-2
Summary: After meeting a young woman he shoots having mistaken her for a walker, Daryl's conscience guilts him to bringing her and her small family back with him to camp. They are now his responsibility. Can they survive the new dead world or will they end up killing each other instead. Daryl/OC. Sorry Caryls I just don't swing that way. Strong Dixon language and sexual content
1. Chapter 1

Here's my second story. It's also my first multi-chapter fic so a little commentary would be welcomed.

I don't own The Walking Dead or the sex god Norman Reedus, wish I did though. I do own my OCs though, so thats cool I guess.

'thought' "dialogue"

* * *

Stumbling in more unfamiliar territory, a young woman is alert of her surroundings, her eyes searching for any sign of those creatures. She cannot be distracted. After a several miles of walking, marking some trees along the way so as to not lose her way back, she finds a small stream. Thanking God for his small mercies, she begins to fill her canisters, placing them back in her pack once full.

'Can't wait for the ridiculously long walk back', if she thought getting here was bad, carrying all the water back was going to be a nightmare.

Sighing heavily, she hauls the pack onto her back and begins her journey back. She follows her markings a few miles when she catches a glimpse of movement out of her peripheral. Stock still, she tries to control her breathing. The bat in her right hand is clenched tightly, ready for use.

The forest is quiet. No sign of life or un-life around. The woman remains cautious. Although she lived in the city all her life, she's seen enough horror movies to know danger is lurking.

'Don't got time to be dealing with this shit'.

High tailing back to her base, she makes sure to crisscross through the trees and go in circles, in order to confuse her pursuer. No such luck. Hearing a whizzing sound by her head, just to see a bolt embedded in the tree near her. She doesn't hesitate to run as fast as her worn legs could take her.

'Fukin' A'.

Scared could not begin to describe how she felt, pushing her legs harder, the weight of her pack slamming into her every step painfully. The thought of dropping the extra load to get away faster had briefly passed through her mind. The fear coursing through her veins ceases any actions other than getting to safety.

Another bolt was released, this time meeting its mark. She's knocked to the ground from the momentum. Her shoulder feels to be on fire; white, hot fire. Feeling like an injured gazelle, the woman quickly gets to her feet.

She cannot be caught.

Adrenaline pumping, she follows the basic instinct of survival. Run away from the predator and live to fight another day. Chancing a glance at her said predator, she forces her body to slow down. No one is there. Flabbergasted, she would have been convinced she imagined it if weren't for the bolt sticking out of her shoulder blade.

'How the hell did I get this far with this thing?'

Not willing to stay out in the open any longer, she continues her journey back to base. Arriving, she stills before entering the small cabin. The hairs on the back of her neck are standing; she is unable to get the feeling of being watched out of her system. Taking one last glance around her, she enters her cabin and relishes her spoils of the day.

Two predatory eyes see the injured woman enter a small cabin.

* * *

Boiling the stream water, she starts to pick up the mess left around the cabin. Picking a few cans from the small stack of food supply she was able to collect, she begins to make a small stew with the variety of canned vegetables. After disinfecting the water, and preparing dinner, she turns to her current problem. She has never been injured quite like this. She tried yanking the damn thing out with brute strength but that only seemed to make it worse and bleeding to death was not an option. She had no clue in what to do.

Grabbing the minimal medical supplies in her disposal, she lays out the alcohol, wrap, and cotton balls. Taking off her belt as a second thought, she puts it in her mouth.

'This is gonna' be a bitch'.

Tearing the material of her shirt from around the bolt, she counts to three and pulls out the pain afflicting object. She screams into the leather of her belt. Tears fall down her face as she feels the tip of the bolt mangle the muscle in her shoulder. Her once blue t-shirt is darkened into a deep purple by her warm sticky blood. The copper smell of it is beginning to nauseate her. The damn thing just won't come out.

She pours alcohol over her wound, her only option to help keep off infection. The seemingly never ending river of tears continues to fall, she prays to all things holy that her cries of anguish have not been heard.

Luck is on her side as the cabin's silence surrounds her. The sound of water boiling on the small single burner outdoor stove could be heard in the distance, did not have the ability to overpower the sound of blood rushing from her ears.

The cabin seemingly vacant aside from her, she grins slowly, despite the pain. It quickly vanishes as just as fast as it appeared when the cabin's front door was kicked open. A sole figure stands at the doorway; the man's wide frame took up most of the space of the opening. Each of his shoulders nearly touched the door's frame from either side.

'No!'

The man steps into her sanctuary, her home and last defense from the evil outside, crossbow raised and aimed at her. Skin tanned from the hot Georgian sun, dirt covered every inch of visible skin. His red plaid shirt, dingy from the elements, and from the kill or be killed new world. She didn't even bother reaching for her bat; this man was all business.

A small noise is heard from below.

'No. Please God, not now.'

The hunter must have heard it also as his finger hovered over the trigger.

"Whu' was tha'?" a gruff voice came out.

Visible shaking, the woman shook her head, "That was me," she kicked her foot softly to the floor, trying to imitate the sound from earlier. The hunter glared down at her, clearly not buying her obvious lie.

"Think I'm fukin' stupid, bitch," he growled. Seeing the tarp a few feet away, he motions his crossbow towards it, "Show me what's under tha' rug."

She hesitates. Contemplating on how fast she could reach her bat and beat the hick's ass. Seeing she was scheming, the man starts yelling at her to hurry or receive a bolt in the eye, stomping all thought of her getting the best of him.

"I ain't tellin' ya' again! What's under the fukin' rug?" His face is turning beat red, he isn't playing any games.

Before either of them made a move, the carpet flew up, revealing a hidden flush door in the floor. The hunter would have taken the shot if a small boy and girl hadn't cried at him to leave them alone.

The woman's shocked face morphed to anger and settled to utter fear as the children rushed to her, crying into her legs.

"Leave us alone," a small boy yelled at the imposing man. He couldn't have been more than eight years old, a little on the skinny side, but who wasn't nowadays. He moved in front of the woman and small girl, stretching his small arms as far as possible to shield them. The smallest of them had darker features, natural tan revealing Latin descendants. She seemed to mold herself into the older woman, trying her damndest to hide from the stranger, yet was still glaring up at him.

The woman whimpered, shuffling slowly to put herself in front of the children. Seeing a hopeless situation, she gave up any thoughts of a fight. There was no way she would put the little ones in danger.

"Look. Take what you want, just don't hurt the kids. Please," she begged.

The hunter remained quiet, crossbow still held up to the frightened woman. His eyes squinted in speculation, always guarded. An eternity seemed to have passed when the hunter grunted and lowered his weapon.

"Fuck," exasperated the man rubbed his neck sheepishly, "I don' make it my mission to shoot no kids. Da' fuk' were ya' thinkin' leavin' dem babies by themselves 'nyway?"

* * *

The woman didn't know how to respond. This man shoots her, hunts her down to her home, threatens to kill her, and now has the audacity to question her parenting skills. Hell no. She was pissed, but then she realized how everything led them to this.

The man expected a lot of things, but her laughter was not one of them. Angered at her finding something funny in him led him to yell and frighten the kids.

"Da' fuks so funny bitch!?"

The children's giggles just made her laugh harder. They found his cussing hilarious.

"Ha ha. I'm sorry. It's just that I don't know what to make of you. Ha ha. First ya' try to kill me then you're scolding me over the kids", calming down, the seriousness of the situation practically smacked her in the face.

The man tried to ignore her comments by shrugging his shoulders and looking around the cabin, taking in his surroundings, his mind taking everything in and thinking of exit strategies if he needed them.

"Thought ya' were spyin' on my camp. Wonderin' 'round dem woods alone like some fool. People do crazy shit when they desperate enough. C'aint be too trustin' nowadays, can we," nodding her head in agreement, they were left with an awkward silence.

"I always leave them here when I have to go scavenge for supplies," his face scrunched as she admitted to abandoning them ever so often, "not like I have a choice though. Can't really take two kids out there with them things out, the secret flushed door is there only hiding place and last defense." She didn't know why she felt the need to defend herself to this stranger, but something told her she needed him to trust her, to appear weak in his eyes. She held the girl closer to herself. She really hated leaving them behind, not knowing if they were safe or not, but she couldn't have them with her all the time. This life has become too dangerous and as the only protector and provider, she needed to do what was necessary for their survival.

She looked up at the now quiet man, wondering why he hadn't left. She had a gut feeling he wasn't going to hurt them or steal their supplies as little as they might be. She cast him a quick glance, he was staring at her still bleeding shoulder. How could she forget about the damn bolt lodged in her? Now that her injury had her attention, the pain returned at full throttle. Luckily the kids didn't take notice. She couldn't have them witness the pain she was in, it would scare them.

"Babies, why don'cha go to the room and play a little, okay? I'll call ya'll back when I'm done."

The kids ran out of the room, the boy took his time entering the other room, hesitating leaving her alone. She smiled to show him he was fine, but it came out more of a grimace, the bolt needed to come out and fast.

"I can help ya' wit' tha', girl", his husky voice came out softly, almost shy.

Looking up at him, she knew that he was the shy type. His personality seemed to have done a 180. Head bent, feet shuffling side to side while biting the skin by his thumb. A nervous habit she came to recognize more and more.

Any other day, she would have told him to fuck off; that she could handle the problem on her own, but for some reason she couldn't reject his offer. As cliché as it sounds, there was something in his clear blue eyes that shown such sincerity and a hint of remorse that begged to put her full trust in him. He captivated her, and ignoring her better judgment she allowed him to help her.

'Could be the blood loss…'

Neither knowing how to hand the situation or where to begin, they just stood awkwardly. Finally the man started to make his way towards her. Raising a brow at her direction, she just pointed to her meager medical supplies.

"Good lord woman! How da' hell did ya' survive this long with just Band-Aids, rubbing alcohol, and some Neo-fukin-sporin?"

His crass ways and speech did nothing to help the feminine giggles from sprouting out of her mouth. The hunter raises his brow once again, seemingly trying to figure her out.

'Holy shit. Am I flirtin'?' Couldn't really blame her, weeks from seeing any other living person and the first one she makes any form of contact is a drop dead sexy man who exudes masculinity.

"Been too damn long," she accidently says out loud.

"What's been too long," she's surprised she just did that and denies having said anything.

He has been standing behind her, trying to decide the least painful method in dislodging the bolt. It would hurt since the head of the point was diamond shaped and pulling it out won't be easy if they didn't want to cause irreparable damage. Deciding to have to force it out, he tells her to grab her belt and bite on it hard because it was going to hurt like hell. After eradicating the offending object he is quick to clean the wound, he tensed up every time she would wince when he went over a certain area. Minutes pass and he finishes dressing the wound.

They sit in silence, not the awkward kind this time, it's strangely principle.

"Gabriela," she breaks the silence.

"Huh?"

She turns toward the older man. "My name is Gabriela, but you can call me Gabby if ya' want". She smiles at his puzzlement, he obviously couldn't figure how things ended between them.

Squinting his eyes at her, he tries to find some sort of sign of mistrust or malintent; he was satisfied at finding neither.

"Daryl."

* * *

Daryl finds himself invited to spend the night at Gabriela's cabin. Night had fallen quickly and neither wanted him to brave the walk back to his camp. 'Walkers', as he called them, were more active at night. He shared his kill of the day with them, guessing it was the close as to an apology as she would ever get from him, she accepted his offering. Besides…it would do the kids good to eat fresh food.

Said kids surrounded Gabby as they ate rabbit mixed into their stew. They tried to put as much space between them and Daryl, a difficult feat in itself as their dinner table was ridiculously small. She had to give them some sort of credit; they weren't crying into her stomach while he ate and he was pretty intimidating. She found it cute how he tried not to make contact with them. Mr. Big Hunter Man was afraid of a couple of little kids. She snorted, grabbing his attention.

Daryl was never a fan of small talk, always straight to the point, but at this moment he would do anything to fill the unnerving silence.

"So, Whu' yer kid's names?" wow Dixon, is that the best you could do? As he didn't receive laughter, he guessed he didn't make a fool of himself.

"Sorry, that was rude of us", she starts to introduce them.

"This handsome young man is Sean," said boy blushes and looks down at his plate to avoid Daryl's gaze and Gabby's humored eyes. "And this little princess is Diane", Gabby laughed gently as the little girl snuggled closer, peaking at Daryl from Gabby's side.

"Kids, this is Mr. Daryl. Say hi," they were met with silence, "I'm not gonna' tell ya'll again. Now stop being rude and mind your manners". Not wanting to challenge Gabby's authoritative voice, soft hellos were given.

Daryl nods at their greeting. He never was good with kids, even before the dead began rising.

"Yeah, they've never been very social with strangers. Guess it can be seen as a good thing now."

Having been that way himself as a child, he agrees with her. Kids can't be too trusting with anybody that comes along. He could respect that.

As the children were tucked in what he presumed was the only bed in the cabin, they were left alone once again.

"So…do you always shoot random people in the woods or is that a new habit you've picked up recently?" Her attempt at breaking the ice just made the hunter's scowl.

'What is it with this guy, he always on his rag?'

"Fuck it," getting up from her spot at the table she beckons him to follow her. His curiosity rises but so did his guard, still he was amused at the woman's behavior. Never before has he met a woman who has been in his company this long without expecting some sort of payment or favor.

"Do ya' wanna' bed to sleep in or do ya; like sleepin'' on floors Mr. Hunter?"

'Cheeky broad', he thought as he made his way in her direction. Still slightly suspicious at her offering, Daryl gives her a scrutinizing gaze. As he nears her, he notices her change in demeanor. Her body tenses and a rosy hue reached her cheeks, making its way down her neck.

'Got the bitch nervous'. He smirks, male pride swelling in his chest.

Clearing her throat, she leads the intimidating man to the other bedroom. She couldn't resist comparing their contrasting differences. While he wasn't that tall, maybe 5'10 or 5'11, his height dwarfed her, being she was a mere 5'5 on a good day. She always wished she were taller, her figure wasn't what you would find in magazines or the envy of every celebrity starlette. All her life she always carried a few extra pounds more than needed, she always blamed her tits and ass. She wasn't fat, just curvy. She got it from her father's side as all the women in her mother's side were slim and tall with athletic builds. They didn't have fat asses or melon sized breasts.

'Least now I don't gotta' worry about diets, hardly anyone to impress.' This brought her thoughts back to the hunter behind her. He was looking at everything but her.

"It's not much, but it'll do", she opens a door to their left, revealing a small room with bare walls and a single bed. The small window was high, didn't allow for any eyes to peer in or out.

Turning to see if it met his approval, she frowns as he still stood outside the doorway.

"Every heard the idiom _never look a gift horse in the mouth? _This is one of them moments". Grunting at the woman, he enters, not meeting her eyes. Dixons are not used to any form of genuine hospitality hell they're not used to any form of kindness, so being given shelter for the night and a warm bed has left him speechless.

'Come on Dixon, man up. No time ta' pussyfoot around, jus' let it be. No one forced her to be nice ta' ya'. He didn't have a chance to say anything; she had already stepped out of the room.

"Goodnight Daryl". With that she was gone.

* * *

The morning sun peaks into the room, the sole occupant is slowly roused by the sunlight pouring in. Daryl takes a deep breathe, stretching out all the kinks in his body. He finds himself reluctant to leave the comfortable bed. Couldn't remember the last time he had such a restful sleep. After a heated debate with himself, he has no choice but to get up as the pitter-pattering of small feet could be heard in the other room.

"Morning Daryl," he walks in to see the small woman place small bowls in front of the now sitting children. "Hope ya' like oatmeal." She tells the kids to eat up and not be picky because that was all that was left.

Appreciative, he gives gruff thanks. She sits across from him to enjoy her share of the bland breakfast.

'Better than nothing Gabbs'.

Taking in her form, he starts to feel out of place. No woman as ever treated him so well without expecting something in return. Even the women back at camp feel obligated to even serve him the food he hunted and it was usually the scraps the others left. He's seen week old road kill with more meat than they leave him.

It was quiet once again at the table, not that they mind. None of them were morning people.

Out of character, Daryl decided to get to know the woman in front of him, something he's never tried to do.

"So they yer kids? Cuz' ya' look a liddol young to be their mama, 'less ya' were one of dem teen moms or sumthin'." She didn't answer right away, still chewing at her breakfast although there wasn't much need. How many times can you chew oatmeal until you realize it was already mush? She makes an odd facial expression, one of intense concentration. An unfeminine snort erupts from her mouth.

Her laugh was whimsical and would have stored it in his memory as such if it weren't for the realization that she was laughing at him. Ready to unleash harsh words, she surprises him by raising her arms in apology.

"I'm sorry sweetie. It's just that I was picturing myself as one of those teen moms on that god awful show." Settling down, she clears her throat, "but no, they're not mine. They're my cousins on my mom's side. My mom's brother was their daddy. I've been helping him raise them since they were born so it's like they are truly mine." She hugs the boy to her, kissing him on the temple just to have him shy away once again. Daryl left it at that, not wanting to know what happened to their actual parents, it was none of his business anyways.

"How 'bout you Daryl? Got any little Daryl's running around with miniature crossbows that I should be warned of or a Mrs. Daryl I should fear for keepin' you hostage?" At this point she knows she is flirting, but she couldn't resist seeing the man squirm in his seat.

Slightly flustered he denies having either. "Nah. No kids, maybe a niece or nephew somewhere out there. An' din't ever 'ave the patience for some broad wantin' to be all serious and shit."

Accepting his answer, she turns back to her breakfast, trying to hide her grin. There was something about Daryl Dixon that amused her and it didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes.

* * *

Adjusting his crossbow across his back, Daryl faces his host. The little girl is hiding behind Gabriela's legs with the boy in front of them, her ever present silent protector. Smirking down at him, he nods and walks away from the cabin towards his camp.

Her husky voice called out to him.

"Come back again for a visit Dixon. Might want ya' to shoot my other arm. Ya' know, to make it even."

He makes a noise that could be mistaken for a chuckle, but this was Daryl fukin Dixon, hunter extraordinaire and all around badass. He is too much of a beast to do something as mundane as laugh.

Seeing his retreating form raise a toned arm and give her a lazy salute.

Oh yeah, he was something special.


	2. Chapter 2

"Where the hell have you been!" came a booming voice.

'Great. Just whu' I need, Officer Dickhead', also known as Shane Walsh.

It's no secret that Daryl and Shane don't always meet eye to eye. The two coming close to blows from time to time. That's what happens when you put two alphas in the same group; couple that with one of them being a Dixon and the other an ex-cop with a God-complex…problems are bound to ensue.

Ignoring Walsh, he heads to his side of the camp.

* * *

"Well look who decided to show 'is ugly mug back. Did ya'miss yer big brudder, Darleena?", came the raspy voice of Merle Dixon.

"Shuddup", he wasn't in the mood for Merle's shit.

"Seein' as I don' see no kill, I take it ya' jus' were fuckin' 'round in them woods". Laughing at his teasing, knowing how he was getting on Daryl's last nerves. He's the oldest and that's what he was supposed to do to his much younger sibling. "Ya' kno' if ya' wannid' to rub one off ya' din't have ta' take off to the woods. There's plenty of pussy 'round 'ere. Blondie ova' there 's off limits though, she's mine. 'M wearin' 'er down, but ya' can 'ave 'er liddol sister." He gives his brother a look of disgust.

"Aw, come on Darleena, don' be such a damn bitch 'bout it. 'm startin' ta' think yer one of them queers."

Having had enough, he goes inside his tent to escape Merle's perverse mind. Don't get him wrong, Daryl isn't gay and appreciates the female figure just as any red blooded male, but he just never had any interest in one before. Sure he's had quickies in the bed of his truck with drunken bar sluts and a hand job or two, but he always felt like shit after each experience. He was better off cumming by his own hand then taking a woman to bed. Too much hassle.

Lying on his cot, left arm under his head, he couldn't help but compare his rickety cot to the soft mattress back at Gabriela's cabin. He bites the cuticle on his right hand. Thinking about her brought up thoughts of his stay there. How…right it felt. He wasn't sneered at for his background or name. He didn't feel the need to prove himself, sure there was some awkward moments and was suspicious of her motives in the beginning. He didn't know when he left his guard down and it wasn't until he was half way to camp that he realized he did it. He scolded himself for such a foolish thing to do; these were not the times to be trusting people.

He closes his eyes to get some sleep. It didn't come. All he could see was her tantalizing hips moving side to side as she led him to the guest room and how her deep brown hair fell in waves by the fire of the small outdoor stove. Remembering how soft her skin felt as he was bandaging it, he couldn't help but wonder how it tastes.

His eyes fly open.

'Hold up. Wher' the fuk did tha' come from?'

Who was he kidding? He was attracted to her and he knew it. He liked that she had some meat on her bones; the women in camp were just too damn skinny, still worrying about their weight. They just didn't do it for him. Recalling her curves made his hands twitch, what he would give to have those round hips around his while he squeezed her lushes breasts as she rode him hard. His right hand travels down his midsection toward his rising erection.

"Baby brudder!", Merles's voice ruins his image of Gabriela's large breasts bouncing over his head. 'This better be fukin' good', his mind screamed as he adjusted himself in his pants.

"Officer Pillow Biter is askin' for ya'. Think he wants ta' ask ya' ta' go steady. Careful Darleena, boys like 'im wan' only one thing…", Merle's deep chuckles could be heard all through camp, receiving annoyed or disinterested looks. People learned quickly that he loved to cause trouble and the more attention you give him, the worse he would get.

Stepping out of his tent, he eyes the ex-cop, not really wanting to hear him bitch about one thing or another.

He sees Merle quite amused as he's smirking at Shane, who's standing a few feet away, clenching his jaw all the while trying to stare Merle down. Trying was the key word. He turned his gaze to the younger Dixon, clearly trying to compose himself and assert his authority over the man.

'Ain't gonna' happen asshole'. Merle knows how much of a power trip Walsh was on; he knew men like him. Neither him nor his brother will bend to his will as the other fuckers did, they were not weak minded as they appeared to be.

"Where have you been Dixon? Sent ya' out two days ago and you come back empty handed. These people have to eat and you decide to take a damn nap." His stance straightens, the muscles in his arms and jaw twitch in agitation and anger. He did not appreciate being ignored when he called the hunter out the first time, and in front of everyone.

"Not my problem," Daryl drawled out, spitting by Shane's feet as if to prove his point. He was already set to head back out for another hunt, but he wasn't going to tell the other man.

'Ain't no one's bitch'.

Angered by the hunter's nonchalant attitude and outright disrespect of him; Shane Walsh was not a man to be trifled with. White trash, red necks had no place among his people, and they definitely had to be put in their place.

He steps further into the Dixon's camp, further away from the other camp and prying eyes, and into Daryl's personal space.

Merle stayed seated, a look of neutrality settled on his face. Daryl wasn't fooled; he knew his brother. He was putting on a charade to exude indifference, but the moment Shane crossed a line, they could be left with a dead cop and a shit load of crap from the others.

"Let me tell you something, _boy_. This camp, these people…we don't need you." Sweeping an exaggerated glance at Merle, "or your junkie brother". This got the man's attention. Daryl would give his last pack of cigarettes to knock that smirk off of the taller man's face; he clenches his fists to keep from doing just that. They could not afford to be kicked out just yet, he had things to do.

"We ALLOW you to set up you camp near us 'cuz that's just how good of people we are." He hopes the other man would accept his snide words, and not see through his bluff. "Now, your only job is to get your inbred ass out there and bring back meat. If you can't handle that, then maybe you two should think about other alternatives."

Neither man budged. This was more than a pissing match; this was a battle of wills. Who is the true alpha in this group?

"Shane?" The recently widowed Mrs. Grimes steadily makes her way towards the men.

Grinning at the self-appointed leader, "Hurry up dirt-bag, the MISSUS is hollerin' ." Never was Daryl so glad to hear the normally screeching woman make her way towards his side of the campsite.

"Shane, Glenn's been looking for you. We need to decide on what is needed for the next run into town," she grips hard on his bicep, nervously taking in the men's expressions.

Not leaving the shorter man's stare, Shane nods and reluctantly follows the slim woman.

The brothers are left alone again to their own devices, thoughts of what had just transpired locked into memory for another day.

"Looks like the pig 's stickin' it ta' tha' skinny bitch. Din't even wait til' 'er husband's body turned cold 'n the ground", Merle sneered.

Shrugging at his brother's comment, "Not like it matters 'nymore", and it didn't. He's met with a grunt from his brother in confirmation. The rusty lawn chair under the heavier man, groaned as he adjusted himself straighter.

"So whu' did ya' really do out there tha' got ya' so riled up an' wit' nuthin' ta' show fer?"

Uncomfortable with his brother's sudden interest, he knew Merle would be relentless in finding out if he didn't give him a quick answer.

"Got distracted", hoping Merle would leave it at that was wishful thinking on his part.

"Now, now baby brudder. I know ya' betta' den tha'. Now tell ol' Merle whu' was so "distractin" tha' ya' forget to bring even a lousy squirrel." Hesitant to tell the other man about last night's hosts, he relents, is actions had Merle's interest piqued.

"Was huntin' an' accidently shit some girl, thought she was a geek. Followed 'er back to 'er cabin an' she let me stay the night," he purposely left out the part of giving her his kill.

"Whoo – wee, tha's whu' 'm fukin' talkin' 'bout! Liddol brudder finally got 'is dick wet. 'Bout time too, were 'avin me worried there." Already used to Merle's view on women and how they should be treated, so it came to a surprise that he was quickly losing his temper the more he spoke of Gabriela as if she was some hole to warm his dick.

"…and I bet she begged ya' ta' give her pussy the Dixon poundin', huh?" His grin turned lecherous, "Damn boy, should let me 'ave a go at 'er next time. Sho' 'er how a real man feels so she don't 'ave ta' settle fer yer sorry ass." Noticing a change in his brother's visage did not deviate him from ranting on how he would "tear 'er up".

"Shu' the fuck up Merle!"

"Aw, does precious Darleena 'ave a liddol crush on the wood's whore?" His demeanor turned serious, "Listen up boy, 'cuz ain't gonna' say dis 'gain. No woman 's worth turnin' 'gainst yer own kin. No pussy is tight 'nuff ta' getting' yer head confused on whu's important…surviving." On the right drugs, Merle could be a much laid back man, but when it came to Daryl, it didn't matter what he was on, he tended to be a hard ass. Ever since he could remember, Merle was always telling him what to do and teaching him how to take care of himself as best of his abilities. Only Merle had ever given a damn about him; it's what family did. They were all they had, always had and always will be them against the world.

'Dixons stick together…Women are meant ta' stay 'n the kitchen, on their backs, an' on their knees…Trust no one but yerself…No one will ever give a damn 'bout ya' but me.' Merle's words of wisdom imbedded in his mind, he didn't know any different.

Grunting he hauled up his re-supplied pack and re-entered the woods, ending their conversation. Even deep in the trees and bush, he was unable to get away from Merle's words and what they meant to him.

* * *

The sun was setting, signaling another day passing since the world as they knew it ended. It also meant another day they had of life. The stitches in her shoulder burned. It was sure to leave a scar, not like it mattered anyway.

'Guess I'm gonna' have to cancel my Playboy photo-shoot'.

She never got to shop at the 'petite' section in the clothing stores at the mall. Her short stature did nothing for her meaty frame. She didn't consider 145 as being terribly over weight, but she would have liked to fit into a size 4 at one point in her life. Her large breasts, although envied by many of her friends, brought nothing but trouble to her. They would be ogled by perverts and brought unwanted attention, and were a total bitch on her back. What she would give for a decent back and neck rub? Cute lingerie was also out of the question; it was extremely difficult finding a bra and panty set that covered her tits AND ass. So when the world went to shit, she made sure to take all of her lingerie she owned because scavenging for more would be hell.

Her self-pity was interrupted by the small voice of Diane, "Gabby, I'm hungry." Her small hand curled around the bottom of her green plaid button up shirt.

"Almost ready girlie girl", she reassured as she stirred the pot of food.

Sean walked up next to her and peered in the cooking pot, scrunching his nose at its contents.

"Beans again! I hate beans. Can't we have pancakes instead?"

Gabriela laughed at the boy's objections. 'Oh to be young…'

"Well Seanie, its all we got so you're gonna' have to suck it up and be thankful we got food to eat at all." She cast a glance at their depleting food supply as she heard the 7 year old grumble to himself no doubt walking to their bedroom to sulk.

* * *

While the kids ate, Gabby's mind drifted to the rough redneck, not like the burn in her shoulder wasn't a constant reminder of him, but it was a different this time. Worrying over a complete stranger in the old days was not uncommon for her, well according to her friends. She was just too soft hearted and in times such as the ones they live in, it is not just plain ludicrous but can possibly be fatal. She longed for the old days.

'Since when did a month ago become the old day?'

She felt much older than her actual 24 years. Constantly looking over your shoulder and living on the edge would age anyone.

'Still…wonder if he made it back okay. If he got caught with a herd of those things…what a shame it would be, such a gorgeous…', wait, what?

"I did not just think that" she denied softly to herself.

"Said what?" asked the curious four-year old.

"Nothing, baby girl. I'm just being silly," she giggles at the older reply. She hated to admit her attraction to the rude, dirty Neanderthal of a man, that she hardly knew… yet those sleek blue eyes ignited something inside her, a deep burn that curled her toes and made her light headed; unadulterated lust.

'Thank God for that sleeveless shirt'.

* * *

Bringing back about a dozen squirrels and a couple of rabbits, he tossed them in front of Deputy Douchebag's feet; didn't even bother to skin them

'Let dem idiots figure it out. Serves dem right'. The mortified look the group made as they saw the dead animals and Shane's peeved scowl was worth the slight sunburn he earned from the unforgiving Georgian sun.

Merle entered their camping area, where Daryl sat and skinned their share of squirrels.

"Whu' did ya' do ta' Walsh? Even is skinny bitch was getting' 'is stank."

"Nuthin', he din't deserve', was his response.

Not expecting any more from the younger man, he goes into his tent. His earlier twitching was an indicator for his need to get into a good high. Drugs were his was to escape reality, his way of dealing with the shit life aimed at them. Disgusted over his brother's habit, it was going to get them both killed one day, he goes back to preparing his dinner. Daryl had given up trying to get Merle off the drugs. All he could do was bail him out of trouble he was always bound of getting into.

The other camp's laughter carried to his camp, their jovial voices rose as they spoke with one another as they enjoyed each other's company. Daryl couldn't help but compare his camp and theirs. He was used to being alone; Merle would disappear for weeks, months on end in his younger days, being in juvie or just to be away from their father. He would entertain himself by camping in the woods or imagine he led a different life. When he got older, Merle joined the military, became a Marine, but was court marshaled after a stint involving knocking the teeth out of a superior. Being on his own came to no surprise, although he couldn't help but wonder if things would be different if he wasn't, if he was more like them. Would he be sharing a beer with the men, while the women went around serving dinner that he hunted and thanked him for his work without any fear in their eyes? Would he be respected and thought of one of them? He scoffs.

Then his thoughts went to Gabriella and the small children under her care. Would they have sat around him and spoke of their day or would they have shunned him and ignore him all together as everyone else did? Shaking his head as if it would erase those thoughts from him head, like a damn Etch-A- Sketch.

Picking up one of the sticks he gathered earlier, he begins to whittle it into a descent point. Can never have enough bolts.

Ever slowly, the image of Gabriela sitting across from him as she stirred a pot of rabbit stew started to form. The boy would be sitting at his side, staring up at him in awe as he told him of is hunting trips as the small girl curled in his arms slept after a long day of running around with the other children. Gabriela would look up from her spot across the fire and scold him for using inappropriate language in front of the children.

That's how Merle found him, when he stumbled out of his tent.

"Whu' the fuk gots ya' smilin' like a goddamn fool?" questioned the extremely high Dixon. Daryl didn't realize he had a small smile on his face until a frown settled in its place.

"Daydreamin' like some hippie is jus' gonna' git ya' killed," he berated as he sat in his well-used lawn chair, "ya' need ta' git yer head out yer ass an' start preparin' fer takin' over those uppity faggots camp."

Not liking where this was going, Daryl clears his throat in attempt to ignore the quenching in his gut. He knew they were planning to deceive the people at the quarry. He might not like most, if not all, the campers, didn't mean he wanted to rob them of everything. It was just signing their death warrants.

Having lost his appetite, Daryl stares into the fire. The other camps joyous voices although quieted as night approached, still rang loudly in his head. Merle's voice accompanied them. 'Blood is thicker than water, liddol brother'.

'Yeah, but whose blood?'

* * *

"That vase, that's something special. 'Fess up. You steal that from your Grandma Jean's house? I hope you left her that spoon collection", the man lying in the hospital bed chuckles a bit to his friend and is confused when he receives silence. His friend is nowhere to be seen. He searches for anything familiar.

Nothing.

He turns to his right and sees the vase of flowers sitting on the small table; the same "get well" flowers Shane brought in were withered.

'How can that be?' He could not just lay there when he needed answers. Attempting to pull himself out of bed, he collapses to the ground. He tries to get himself back up on shaky knees, muscle loss evident. How long has he been there? He is calling out weakly for the nurse, but no one comes. Using the wall for support, feeling not unlike a newborn fawn, he is disgusted with himself.

Rick Grimes was a man that hated being helpless. Deeply missing the comforting weight of his police issued gun and hoister. The hospital is uncharacteristically dark, no nurses, doctors, or even other patients to be seen.

The lingering smell that seems to fester in the walls did nothing to help quell the nausea in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly he lurches forward, emptying acidic bile as it makes its way up, burning his throat. Not bothering to clean up, he continues to make his way to through the disarrayed hospital I search of somebody, anybody.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi, sorry for a late update. Finals are coming up and I have been swamped with last minute assignments and projects.

I'd like to thank all of ya'll for reading my story, I've been enjoying writing it and like that some of you like it. It really keeps me in the mood to continue with it.

Don't be afraid to comment and let me know what I could do to improve, ok. Thanks again guys.

I do not own The Walking Dead or its characters.

* * *

Gabby sits with her back against the wall. Two cans. Two cans and three bottles of water. Why hadn't she taken better track of their supplies? It's been over a week since they had last fresh meat; been a week since she was shot by Daryl's crossbow. The wound was still sore, but it was mostly an annoyance. Damn thing itched like hell though. It was healing so she had little to complain on the matter. She had more important issues to ponder over. So back to the problem at hand…they were going to starve.

Her eyes stung as she thinks about the small children that have been under her care. They had become hers since she was all they had left, and now she's failed them. Unwilling to leave them alone any more, even to go collect water; afraid it would be the last time she would see them alive. The dead have been making their way more into the area. They are migrating out of the city in search of food, like packs of animals. The groups are getting larger, with smaller groups joining others. The fact still remains that there is no more food and she had no one else to blame but herself.

Daryl's silhouette makes its way to her mind.

'No', she shakes her head vehemently, trying to grab back onto reality. There was no way Daryl would come back and an even smaller chance of him helping them. That's not how life went. She needed to get things done and by her own strength. Mind made up she squares her shoulders; she needed to keep her kids alive.

Her kids.

'Gotta' get used to that'.

* * *

Scooping up his latest kill, he latches it to a string of rope calling it a day. Two rabbits, a handful of squirrels and an opossum should be enough for the "city slickers" tonight. For the umpteenth time, the girl and her kids plagued his mind. They were alone in that cabin with no real protection but an old bat.

'That shorty couldn't hit the wide side of a barn'. He snickers at the image she gave, trying to look intimidating. She wasn't scrawny in the least, but she didn't exactly look like she could hold up her own in a fight. 'How the hell did she expect to protect 'erself and them babies all by 'erself. I could…'

"No. Ya' ain't gotta' worry about no one but yerself… an' Merle." He admonished himself.

He's biting his cuticle on his right thumb. It still didn't sit well with him. He could already hear his brother's voice reprimanding him. 'Worryin' over sum cunt an' sum rugrats tha' ain't even yers 's jus' askin' fer problems. Mind yer own damn self if ya' kno' whu's good fer ya'.

'Merle's right. Need ta' ferget 'bout 'em an' concentrate on whu's important." But it didn't mean he had to like it.

Shutting his eyes briefly, he takes a deep breath and continues to follow the deer trail he spotted earlier.

As he's skinning one of his kills, he looks at the other camp across from him. A variety of people are making themselves busy with chores. Some working in groups and others are on their own, each useful in one way or another. They are delusional, acting as if there aren't creatures wondering outside of the campsite, just wanting to bite into them. They are good at pretending to be on some expanded camp vacation with other families, happily being oblivious.

He could see Gabriela sitting with the other women while giving her kids lessons, trying to get the boy to sit still all the while the little girl would be struggling with learning to write her alphabet.

'No. Officer Ass-Wipe would bitch an' moan 'til 'e sent them on their way'.

He starts to gut another animal when a terrifying image appeared in the back of his mind. Picturing the little girl lying on the cold floor, too weak from starvation and dehydration, to even pick herself up had done him in.

'Fuck Walsh. He can jus' go suck a Walker's dick.'

Looking up, he could tell by the alignment of the sun that it was around noon. Without a word he gets up, leaving the rest of the skinning to his brother whom he signals. Ignoring Merle's questioning stare, Daryl grabs his crossbow and pack and sets out into the forest.

* * *

Gabby had woken up the following morning with her stomach protesting for some nourishment.

'Settle down, we're just gonna' have to make do for now', she tells her belly as she rubs it to find some relief.

She needed to scavenge for food meaning they had to leave the safety of the cabin. Sean and Diane had not really been outside since they stumbled upon the cabin nearly a month ago. How could she keep them safe? It was naïve of her to fathom the thought of keeping them inside the walls of the cabin for the rest of their lives. She was in deep shit. They were in between a rock and a hard place.

She walks into their room to wake them; she had decided to stay in the room Daryl had stayed in as to be closer to the front door. She wanted to be able to get to the entrance first, in case someone or something decided to pay them a not so friendly visit. Not everyone would let them be like Daryl had.

Waking Diane was a struggle in itself. Deciding it would do them good to sleep a little longer, she packs their small packs with necessities for their trip. They needed to travel as light as possible.

A torrent of scenarios of what could possibly await them outside that door was enough to start an anxiety attack. Taking deep breathes, she tries manages to calm down, keeping it Zen. Her yoga teacher in college had taught her that simple things such as breathing exercises could help with her stress and anxiety. They were one of the reasons she took the class…and yeah, it was cool to learn how to bend her body in odd poses.

Heavy banging on their door brought her anxiety back and to reach a new level, fearing for her children's safety, she quickly carries Diane while practically dragging Sean out of bed. Rushing to their hiding place, she scans the room for her bat. She was scared out of her damn mind. The knocking became more persistent.

"Fukin' open the door woman! Been knockin' on this door like a goddamn idiot", the thunderous voice came from no other than Daryl Dixon.

Her hurried movements faltered as she tried to calm her frazzled nerves. Once she was sure she wasn't having a heart attack, she sped to the door to let the hunter in. Nearly ripping the door off its hinges, "The fuck were ya' thinkin' Dixon! Your mother-fukin' hollerin' is gonna' get us all killed. Get in, ya' damn hick," grabbing the shocked man, she pulled the man inside with a force not belonging to a woman of her stature.

Removing himself from the woman as fast as humanly possible, he shrugged and walked further inside.

"Git yer shit girl. Takin' ya'll back to my camp". Seeing as she hadn't made a move to do what he just said, he growls a little to himself, patience running thin. "Are ya' deaf woman? Go git yers an' yer kid's shit, we gotta' go."

Gabby did not do well with taking orders, especially not from a man she just met. "So im just supposed to pack all our stuff and leave with ya' only God knows where? I don't know who ya' think ya' are but I need ya' to explain yourself right now."

Frustrated with the woman's stubbornness, he tries his best not to yell. How did she not understand what he wanted her to do?

"It ain't hard ta' figure out. Go pack yer stuff. 'Cuz im takin' ya'll ta' my camp. 'Cuz it ain't safe fer ya'll ta' stay here," he spoke slowly to patronize her, it worked.

"Don't be an ass Daryl, I heard ya' the first time. What I meant was, why? If ya' haven't noticed, things have changed and I gotta' make sure every decision I make is with my kids in mind". Understanding her reluctance to just leave with him, he couldn't help but admire her; any other person would have jumped at the chance for an opportunity to have more protection. Rubbing his chin, contemplating what to say to allow her to trust him and leave as soon as possible; they only had so many hours of sunlight left in the day.

"Look, I git tha' yer tryin' ta' protect yer babies, but ya' also kno' ya' can't do it alone," pointing to the bat in her hand, "tha' thing can only do so much damage. Whu' if it wasn't me tha'came through tha' door, huh, think they were jus' gonna' come 'n an' ask ta' borrow some shuga'? If ya' really wanna' keep them an' ya' alive, then yer jus' gonna' 'ave ta' trust me." He searched her face for a sign of rejection. He was not known for being hospitable not patient, other than hunting, but he NEEDED her to trust him. He needed to know she and hers were safe and he only way he knew how was for them to be under his watchful eye.

She studied the man in front of her. Her first impression of him was of a crass man with a deadly aim and even deadlier motivations, after their first night she saw that he was still a crass man with a deadly aim, but with compassion that he hid very well. He did not seek her out again to harm her or her children; he wanted to keep them safe. Hearing him ask to trust him with such sincerity made her realize that she already had.

Daryl stood anxiously, a myriad of emotions passed her eyes as she thought of her decision. No being able to stand the silence any longer, he was about to make an excuse and rush out of the suffocating room, when she finally spoke. "Ya' don't need to ask, I trust you Daryl". Placing her bat on the dinner table, she pats the invisible dust off her backside. "Let me just finish packing their stuff. We were heading out to find some food and water today and were gonna' take what we could carry in case we couldn't make it back here. Lucky you decided to come for us today, huh? Why don't you look around and see if there's anything ya' might need for your camp?" She goes to inform her kids about what was ahead of them and to prepare for their journey.

Not knowing what had just transpired, he takes a look around him and checks to see if there was anything of value they could take, all the while going over what she had just said. '…I trust you Daryl'.

* * *

No one could have expected this.

Shane couldn't decide if he should rush towards the hunter, demanding if he lost his tweaked-out mind, punch him in the face, or laugh at the scene presented to them.

Daryl Fukin' Dixon steps into camp after disappearing the previous day just to return with a small girl in his arms. Said girl was speaking to him animatedly, hand gestures used energetically as if to better explain what she said. Following him was a young woman and a small boy a few years younger than Carl. It was an image not easily forgotten.

To say the others were taken aback was an understatement; Glenn's jaw might have actually hit the floor if it hadn't been attached to his face. Dale was the only person to not seem surprised over the occurrence. Stepping down from his perch on top his RV, he climbed down to make his way to the newcomers before someone scares them off.

"Welcome, names Dale Horvath." He extends his arm to the young woman as a sign of greeting, but immediately retracted due to nervous cringe she unconsciously did. The slight movement she made to get nearer to Daryl and the way the children especially the girl, had clung to him, brought a small smile to appear on the older man's plump face. Not many trusted the younger Dixon, and seeing the epitome of innocence nestled herself into him was a clear indicator that he was not the malicious man he was built to be. This world needs more men like him, heck the old world did too.

"It's okay little lady, no one is going to hurt you here, especially not an adorable little girl like you", he cooed at the shy child. Soon the rest of the group made their way to the visitors.

'Bunch a damn vultures'. Daryl's attempt of escape of the other's scrutiny had failed as the tyke clung to him in a strong vice. He could see the people's curiosity; some held mirth for his nearness of such an impressionable child.

"Hey baby brudder. Whu' the hell ya' bringin' 'n strays fer?", Merle's obnoxious holler had the group disperse like he was fukin' Moses. Grateful for escaping the other's questioning, his relief was short-lived; now he had to handle the older Dixon's shit.

The woman hadn't left his side since they stepped into camp and the rugrats tried as they might to mold themselves into him. He scoffs. 'Problem after problem these three were'.

* * *

"So ya' goin' tell me who those people ya' brought are?", Merle referring to Gabriela and her kids. Before he could utter a word, Gabriela stepped out from behind him. "Hi, I'm Gabriela, but you can call me Gabby. This here is Sean and Diane."

'Where the fuck did tha' come from'. Daryl was confused. She hid behind him like a damn kid at their first day of school when the 'civilized' group was trying to introduce themselves, but with Merle…she was talking to him like they were old friends.

"Hmm, Gabby huh. Whu' a fine name for such a fine broad," turning on the Ol' Merle charm, "names Merle, but ya' can call me anythin' ya' want, sugar tits".

'Here we go', Daryl rolled his eyes at his brother's flirtations, but an unknown heat started to develop in his chest; he shrugged it off as heartburn. Having had enough of Diane's choke hold, he tries to untangle himself from the little koala. No such luck.

Gabby's soft laugh startled him, hell it surprised Merle. Usually women like Gabby would be insulted by Merle's come-ons, ending with slapping him or stomping away. She seemed amused.

'This woman is fuckin' crazy'.

He had taken a nervous glance at his brother, hoping she hadn't offended him. Lord only knew he could handle so much trouble in one day, but what he saw had almost knocked the air out of him.

Merle Dixon…was blushing. He looked almost…shy, and Merle is anything but shy.

"Well Ol' Merle, think im gonna' stick to just Merle; suits ya' mighty fine", she gives him a hundred watt smile. Turning to her kids, "What do we say when we meet nice, new people?" At this point, the girl had loosened her iron grip from around Daryl's neck and the boy had moved to his side, allowing some space between them.

"Hi Mr. Merle", they greeted in sync; clearly not the first time Gabby had told them this. Merle's deep laugh grabbed some of the camp occupant's attention. Throwing wary eyes at them, they continued on with their chores once they received Daryl's glare. "Why, aren't ya'll jus' fulla manners, don'cha think so Daryl?" Ignoring his brother, he's about to return the girl to Gabriela; when Walsh decides to grace them with his presence.

'Why can't nobody let me be', he complained.

"Can I have a word with you Daryl?" Once again, Daryl is stuck with the only human Koala. Shane may not intimidate the Dixon brothers but he sure had an effect on four year-olds. She was shaking in his arms with Shane's close proximity; holding her closer and gently rocking had soothed the tot. Stepping a few yards away from prying eyes and ears; Walsh eyes landed on the child. Daryl shrugged at the other man's questioning gaze.

"What were you thinking bringing complete strangers to camp? You know we barely have enough food and water to go around as it is." Shane ran his hand through his dark, curly hair in frustration. Any other day, Daryl would've been amused, but since Shane was in HIS face, his temper was getting the better of him. Not wanting to scare Baby Koala, he counted to ten to keep his cool and not break Deputy Asshat's teeth in."How'd you even run into them anyway? Is there more?" laughing humorlessly, "Doubt you knew that hot piece of ass before this shit Dixon". With a lecherous snide, "unless you have…was she one of you trailer trash sluts or just another junkie with bad taste in men?" The more Shane spoke, the less he cared that Baby Koala was held in his left arm; he could beat Shane's ass with one arm anyway.

"Doesn't matter no more, does it? They 'ere already, so whu' ya' gonna' do, kick 'em out?" Knowing fully well that Walsh wouldn't be able to chase them off, especially the children, not unless he is willing to anger the band of merry bitches in his camp. Daryl's smug grin quickly evaporated from his face at Shane's confident stance, with his large arms crossed and a shit eat grin, he laid down the heaviest load of bullshit upon Daryl.

"Ok, but they're YOUR responsibility. They cause trouble or put any of mine in any danger, then it's your ass. Not only will they have to leave but you and your worthless brother." His shit eat grin only annoyed Daryl further. "I'm warning you Daryl, they step out of line and you are out."

Holding the girl closer, Daryl take two steps towards Shane, the action had the taller man leaning back. How dare Shit-for-Brains Walsh say that crap in front of the little girl. "Gonna' run tha' by me again, Officer," he spats out, "ya' don' gots to worry 'bout me an' mine. Jus' stay out of my way an' ya'll can keep up yer pretend life ya' got runnin' 'ere." Before turning back to his camp, Daryl added, "Oh, an' if I hear ya' insultin' Gabriela like she wasn't the lady she is 'gain and in front of Baby Girl, it's gonna' be my foot stompin' on yer ass. Got it." Accepting the man's silence as a win, he adjusts Baby Koala more comfortably in his arms and heads to THEIR side of the camp once again.

* * *

He sees Gabriela and Merle in a heated argument, with the boy's curious gaze bouncing back and forth between the two adults; fearing the worst he hurries his pace, but not enough to bring attention to himself. A few feet away from the two other adults, he was surprised of what their arguing was about.

"How can you even think that, Merle? There is no fuckin' way Metallica woulda' made an epic comeback after the nineties, especially not after St. Anger. They obviously went mainstream and lost what made them the band they had been. What they needed to do was get back to their roots and find their sound and not try so hard to keep up with what was popular".

"Hell no, Baby Doll. There is no way they woulda' disappeared jus' like tha'. I 'member goin' to the Ride the Lightning Tour in '85 wit' a few buddies of mine. Rode all the way to Austin, Texas and was getting' stoned backstage with a few of band crew. When James belted out 'Seek and Destroy' I almost shit myself. Tha' last album was crap, I can agree, but whose ta' say they wouldn't brought it back to their old music. If this shit din't happen, they coulda' made the comeback we've been waitin' for, woulda' blown our minds." She gave him props, it was refreshing speaking to a fellow music lover especially one with similar tastes.

They finally noticed Daryl had come back; the two bickering music enthusiasts welcomed him. "How'd I go baby brudder? Deputy Cum-Dumpster tear ya' a new one?" He eyes his brother as if saying 'talk about it later, a worn look passed Gabby's face as she saw the exchange. She didn't want to put Daryl in an uncomfortable position with his group because of them.

"Look, if they don't want us here, we…", she was quickly cut off by Daryl's gravelly voice. "Ain't nuthin' fer ya' ta' worry. You an' yers are ta' stay 'ere wit' me an' Merle. Gonna' 'ave ta' carry yer own weight 'round 'ere though. Can't be doin' everythin' fer ya' all the time". She smiles brightly at him. Her kids have a chance now; just a few hours ago she had believed their fate was sealed to die of starvation or worse.

"Don't worry Daryl, I ain't gonna' slack." Grunting , he hands the girl to Gabriela and without further acknowledgement he goes to his tent, leaving them with Merle.

* * *

After several minutes, Daryl exits his tent, in search of Gabriela, as she wasn't I camp he takes his search to the other campsite. He finds her and her kids in the midst of what could be seen as an interrogation amongst the women. The scene would be humorous if it weren't for the obvious unease in her posture. The urge to get her away from the situation and in his protection was strong. Chiding himself for such idiotic thoughts, he slows his pace, he doesn't have to worry about anyone but himself. She could handle being uncomfortable a bit longer. What were these bitches gonna' do to her anyways? Beat her with a spatula and washboard?

Poking fun at the females of the group did little to settle his nerves. It was stupid to worry over the new girl, but he knew how vicious women could be; just because they seemed welcoming did not mean they'd accept her full heartedly. She was going to have to earn her place.

She caught his eye; he scowled as her visage morphed instantly to one of relief as he neared.

The other women saw him approach, many scattered in any direction away from him, needing to put as much room between them and the hunter. The few that remained could barely meet his eyes, if at all. His uncharacteristic actions as of late, have piqued their curiosity, their view of the usually grouch has altered in their minds when he made his appearance that afternoon. How would he act towards the young woman and her small children? Did they know each other before this? If not, was it a love at first sight encounter, a passion filled affair between star-crossed lovers? Least to say, these women were die-hard Harlequin novel fanatics. Their disappointment of what conspired next would be seen as comical, if it weren't for the fact that they expected a dramatic scene fit for the cheesiest of soap operas. They shouldn't have expected much from a man like Daryl Dixon.

"Been lookin' fer ya' woman," tossing a glare at the other women, wiping the strange looks off their faces, "grab ye shit an' follow me." Without leaving her a word edge wise, he leaves to his tent.

Taking in the other women's crestfallen faces, she shrugs and ushers her kids to follow her back to their camp. Grabbing their meager belongings, she is met with an irritated hunter.

* * *

Back with the group of women that Gabby had left, they were in the same spot wondering how they could be so wrong.

The slim black woman sighs. "Well that just proves that there is nothing going on between them. Too bad, they'd make a very interesting couple. Such a heated romance it could have been." A few women agreed. Why did Daryl have to be such a rough, strong gorgeous man? If only he were more like the men in their romance books, then maybe this world wouldn't be so bad.

The youngest of them, Amy, continued to see the couple's interactions. She could see something there, but needed a little more evidence. Then it happened.

"Oh my God", catching the other female's attention, "I believe we might still have something to talk about ladies." Seeing their skepticism, she tries to reassure them. "Just give them time, and keep your eyes open, I know a juicy romance when I see one."

* * *

"'Bout time woman," opening the flap of his tent, he let Gabriela and her kids enter first. As he entered, he stood to the side, biting the skin along his thumb nail.

Gabby was surprised at the tidiness of the tent; it was unexpected form a man like Daryl. He had moved his belongings to one side of the roomy tent and left a good amount of space for her and the kids. "Ain't much, but ya'll 'ave 'nuff room fer ya'lls shit an' ta' sleep." Taking in his trepidation, she gives him a watery smile. It's been a long time since anyone has showed them any amount of kindness and here stood a man that she hardly knew anything about and he has gone far and beyond for them.

"Thank you, Daryl. Don't know if I could ever repay you. You've saved our lives I more ways than I can count." Before either one could comprehend what was happening, she had dropped her pack on the floor and had launched herself to the unsuspecting man. Squeezing him close to her as humanly possible, she stretches her neck and shifts from kissing both of his cheek and thanking him repeatedly in a strange mantra.

Daryl is frozen in place, unable to decipher his next course of actions. His head tells him to push the clingy bitch away, that he didn't need any more baggage than he already has. Women were nothing but trouble; having a woman with children…was suicidal.

But.

Having this woman flushed against him; her warm body molding to his, feeling her soft breast pressed firmly on him…caused a flutter in his chest as well as his groin. A man could get used to this. His hands slid up her arms, the feel of gooseflesh appeared on her skin as he did this, confused and excited him. Before he could make a decision, two small beings attached themselves to his legs. Seeing as their adopted mother was comfortable with the gruff man, gave them confidence to near him and accept him as a friend.

Panicked, Daryl's body is on pinpricks, tensed from having no experience in these situations. The warmth building in the pit of his stomach scared him, and Daryl Dixon does not scare easily.

This was the scene Merle was greeted as he entered his brother's tent.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry I haven't updated lately. Finished my finals and passed thank God. Been working off and on with this chapter. Was difficult to finish from all the ideas that kept popping up i my head for other stories I've been currently working on. Between constant editing and working on other stories, I'm surprised I even finished this chapter as soon as I have.

Don't own anything from The Walking Dead,except my OCs. Norman Reedus is not my baby's daddy no matter how many animal sacrifices I've made (jk). Hope you enjoy and please if theres any suggestions for my stories direction then go ahead and comment. I'd really appreciate to know if ya'll like it or I should just give up on it.

Thanx

* * *

"Well lookie 'ere Darleena, ya' got yerself one of them group hugs those faggots back at camp are always 'avin," chuckling at his brother's predicament, he just stares as the girl and her little ones detach themselves from his brother's side. Wiping the joyful tears from her face, she smirks at the older Dixon. "If ya' wanted a hug so bad Merle, all ya' had to do was ask. Don't need to be getting' jealous of Daryl".

Scoffing at her words, he couldn't help the small part of him that silently agreed with her accusation. Seeing his brother embraced by such a lovely creature and her cherub faced tikes so sincerely, could warm even the coldest of hearts; he couldn't help but feel a little envious. He would ever admit it; Dixons were not known to be affectionate, let alone receive any that they hadn't had to pay for. Deciding to go with the nonchalant approach to move on from the matter, he changes the subject before anyone realizes the sore spot she unintentionally hit.

"Why the fuk ya' turn the waterworks fer?" Looking around the once spacious tent, he noticed her bags by their extra cot. "Shackin' up already huh, liddol brudder? Cain't say I blame ya', jus' wish I got ta 'er first." In all honesty, Merle was surprised once again at Daryl's behavior. All their lives Daryl had always been shy and awkward at anything with a pussy and here he was with a spic and her two children, sharing a tent and taking care of them. "Remember ta keep it down so's not ta wake up the pipsqueaks," he gestures to Sean and Diane, oblivious of the vulgar words being said by the eldest Dixon. They continued to set up their personal belongings on their side of the tent while their adoptive other and new guardian became living tomatoes with all their blushing.

Still feeling the embarrassment of being caught in an embrace and his brother's ridicule, Daryl tries to save face. "Not my fault the bitch started to molest me. Now I know where Koala gets it from," it came out more harshly then intended and from past experiences, he knew women didn't respond well to being spoken like that. He inwardly cringed, preparing himself for the impending bitching only to be met with the whimsical sound of feminine laughter.

"Haha, yeah, Baby Girl can be a little clingy, especially with her dad. She was and always will be a daddy's girl," bringing up her uncle still hurt as it did when remembering any family member. Having lived in the center of a large populated city, she knew that the odds of any of them being alive were slim to none. All they had left in the world was each other…and Daryl Dixon. Speaking of Dixons, Gabby wondered why she wasn't offended by both brother's vulgar language and crass behavior. Before the end of the world, she would not put up with any of their disrespect especially not in front of Sean and Diane's impressionable minds. Quite the opposite, she was amused. They were two of the toughest, mean, assholes she has ever met, but she couldn't help but feel familiar with them.

Shock was apparent on the younger Dixon's face. Having never encountered a woman such as Gabriella, he was at a loss on how to react. He just nods and turns toward his brother who had a similar expression as well. Both Dixons wordlessly stepped out, allowing Gabriella to settle in her new home.

* * *

Rick slowly made it to dinner. His captors/saviors, Morgan and his son Duane, sat around a small rectangular table, awaiting his arrival patiently. Morgan held a suspicious gaze to their guest whom was trying to show he wasn't a threat as much as possible, a not so difficult feat with a gunshot injury. Sitting across from Duane, Rick is questioned and then informed of what has transpired since his time in a coma. How, what they all believed as another flu type virus had grown into an epidemic that spread like wildfire; one that there was no cure for and the downfall to human society and life.

Morgan went on into describing the first days of the end of the world. Everyone running panicked in the streets; the looting and killing from desperate people, all the while being chased and eaten by the infected.

"You get bite, you're dead. You get scratched, you're dead." Morgan's warning fueled Rick's drive to find his family. He needed to make sure Carl and Lori were safe. The only problem was if he could do it and if he found them…would it be too late?

* * *

Having been in camp for a few days, Gabby was just starting to feel relaxed around the others. It was harder for her to put her guard down around these people than she did with the Dixons. Sean and Diane quickly adjusted to their new neighbors, if they weren't running around with the other children, or attending their lessons taught by the mothers, then they were practically attached to the hip with the Dixon brothers. Lori had asked her for help with preparing lunch and to keep an eye on Carl while she went off to do whatever she thought was more important than watching her own son. Gabby always made sure her kids were in her eyesight and at the moment they were "helping" those darn Dixons. Gabby couldn't help but enjoy the way the two rough men behaved around her kids; gentle but firm. Real male father figure types Merle and Daryl were, especially Daryl. Merle had Diane on his knee as she was too young to learn whatever they were showing Sean, 'but she could still watch', Merle had said.

From her vantage point, she could see Daryl demonstrating how to properly sharpen a knife and how to care for it. Never been camping or handled such weapons as Daryl and Merle have, she was thankful they were teaching her kids some skills now invaluable in this world.

Once Lori returned she said she could go, didn't even thank her for babysitting. 'Oh, well.' She really didn't need Queen Bee's bitching directed at her. Instead she made her way back to camp Dixon and to spend some quality time with her family.

Diane whispers into Merle's ear. He nods and gently sets her down on the ground, no sooner that her tiny feet reach the dirt, she took off in a run towards her with her arms wide open. "Mommy!" Diane yells joyfully. Shocked at the small girl's exclamation, she crouches and opens her arms for the young girl to jump into. Spinning her _daughter_, she showers her with kisses, trying to keep up with _her_ child's ramblings.

"…an' then Mr. Merle showed me how to climb big trees and I din't fall. An' then…" It was becoming difficult to keep up with Diane; so far she was able to pick up Merle teaching her to climb trees and Daryl showing them how to tie big knots. She nodded her head and finished her way to their camp. Gabby loved their new camp, sure the other women in camp had welcomed her to stay at their camp, and even Dale had invited her to stay in the RV, stating how it would give more protection for the kids. She politely declined Dale's offer, as genuine as it was, she knew it was a tight fit already with Andrea and Amy bunking with him. She also knew the other invitations were just the other campers trying to seem generous and hospitable, but it was something that was expected of them to say, they had no real intentions of following through. There was no room for excess baggage in this new life, especially a seemingly weak woman and her two children; a fact that brought back to mind a conversation she and Daryl had her first night there.

"_You didn't have to do all this ya' know," she whispered in the darkness of the tent. Daryl was laying on his back, trying to rest from the day's hectic events. She was met with silence, suspecting he had fallen asleep; she jumps a bit when his voice carried through the tent._

"_Whu', ya' think I was gonna' let ya' die out there wit' 'em babies?" He tries to control his temper and not wake the slumbering children. He is not only angered at her questioning his actions but highly insulted. Gabby tried to salvage the situation. "No. It's not like that Daryl. I'm grateful for everything you've done, I just meant you didn't have to give up your tent and cot or go to such an extent to make us feel comfortable. Times are tough and everyone needs to preserve and gather as much as they need to survive; can't afford to lose resources. We barely have anything now and we woulda' figured out something so…" He cuts off the rest of her explanation._

"_How?!" His tone is harsher and louder than he intended, luckily Sean and Diane didn't stir, "Ya' think them pussys back at camp woulda' let ya' stay wit' 'em?" Daryl was annoyed at her naivety. Couldn't she see that he was doing right by her and that no one would or could keep her and her family safe but him? He was going to protect her. No other fucker out there was, so why was she being so bull headed?! "Imma' take care of ya' an' yers, so shuddup an' get some sleep woman. Gotta' long day tomorrow an' I need some sleep before I gotta' go back on watch." He grumbles something about stupid women and some other incoherent words before turning over in his sleeping bag, his back to her._

_The discussion was obviously over, but she kept reeling over his words. Giggling softly, she wiggles deeper into her sleeping bag, getting comfortable for the night. Sighing deeply she whispers goodnight to the older man and quickly succumbs to sleep._

She smiles to herself with his words of protection repeating in her mind. Daryl was a proud man and followed his own honor code that many could not understand, but it made sense to her. Dixons take care of their own and she along with her kids fell under that category. How could they be so lucky?

"Whu' the fuck took ya' so long woman? Standin' there like a goddamn idiot." Daryl looks up at her from his spot on the log they were using as a bench of sorts, clearly aggravated by her socializing with the other camp. Gabby didn't blame him; they treated her boys like second rate citizens and had no respect for them. They brought in the food that the other camp ate without a simple thank you and when the women served them food, it was always the crappy parts of the meat or even a bunch of bones. When it was Gabby's turn to handout food, she made sure all the children ate first and divided the proportions evenly. Once in awhile receiving a stink eye from Shane and Lori when she'd give Merle and Daryl hearty servings instead of their usual pitiful helpings, knowing how unfair they've been treated. Those were the times that Gabby ever felt truly helpful to them; she would gladly receive more of Lori's disapproving stares and Shane's glares if it meant she would see more of her Dixon's thankful looks.

'Oh yeah, she was one fortunate woman.'

* * *

Daryl and Merle had left early in the morning to hunt; someone had to feed these people. Gabby hugged them tightly, wishing them luck and to be careful. Sean waved them off, stating that men don't hug, and Diane clung to Daryl like the koala she was nicknamed for, begging him not to leave. It nearly broke the hunter's heart to feel her tremble in his arms. Small tears flooded her big green eyes, a family feature from Gabriella's side of the family seemed to possess. The Dixon brothers did not handle tears well, especially from females; Diane was no exception. They almost relented if it hadn't been days since the last they brought back something fresh. People were becoming hungry. So, the two big, badass, manly men struggled against the tiny four year old's quivering lip and charming gaze.

'She gots them wrapped around her little finger,' Gabby observed humorously, 'that's my girl.'

Deciding they had suffered enough, she switched to her authoritative mom voice. "Diane Elizabeth Hemsworth-Gutierrez. You say goodbye and let go of Mr. Daryl this instant." Diane knew her new mother meant business. She reluctantly loosened her grip and allows herself to be put on the ground, but not before sneaking a quick kiss on his left cheek. She shyly looks at the ground and tells the brothers to be careful and hurry back.

"Will do Liddol Lady," with that, they entered the woods with a light heart. That child was just too damn charming for her own good.

Hours passed since she had last seen the Dixons. Sean and Diane had both received a few math lessons from her while the other mothers taught their own children. Each helping in areas they lacked knowledge in. Now Gabby is left sitting with the other women down at the quarry as they kept an eye on the children splashing in the water. Lori had disappeared as soon as they made their way down to wash the camp's laundry, leaving Carl under their care. Gabby picked up quickly that Lori did this quite frequently. She didn't mind watching Carl, but he had a bad habit of wandering off. Luckily she was used to curious children and had developed a gift when one had an itch to 'explore'.

'Needs to learn that shit don't fly with me. Kid is gonna' end up dead if he keeps this up.' She kept her thoughts to herself, having had bad experiences with mothers and their nasty tendencies when they felt their child or parenting was insulted or criticized. Not like she could blame them, she was known to get highly defensive of Sean and Diane. It helped that she knew not to piss Lori off. It wasn't that she was afraid of the skinny woman, but Gabby knew if she were to start anything it would just lead to constant headaches. She quickly picked up on how Mrs. Grimes thought herself Queen Bee; easy to assign chores and bark out orders, but just as easy for her to forget her own undone chores and leaving her son while she got laid in the woods. Wasn't a secret that she and Shane were 'bumping uglies', as Merle had so casually called it. They would disappear and reappear a few minutes after the other.

'High School shit.'

Gabby sighs as she lifts one of Merle's button-up shirts. His were a lot cleaner than Daryl's, not surprisingly since the younger man seemed to be allergic to soap and water and loved to be covered in squirrel guts. And it wasn't like they had so many outfits to choose from. She was called from her thoughts as she heard her name being said.

"Huh?" Jacqui, a sweet mocha colored woman, smiled and repeated what she had asked.

"I said, how did you end up meeting Daryl Dixon?" She looked pensive and thought over what to say next, "he…well, he's not someone most would expect to save a young women and two small children. We were curious at how he's been treating you." She had looked truly concerned, as did the other women.

She didn't blame them for being apprehensive; Daryl didn't elude a 'knight in shining armor' air to him, if anything he'd be the dragon. She giggled at that. Wanting to set the straight, she took off half of the sleeveless shirt she snagged from Daryl that morning, revealing her bandages. "He shot me thinking I was a walker," a collective gasp from the women had her smirking at the memory. "He tracked me to my cabin and pointed his crossbow at my face." She thought back to the fierce look as he evaluated her level of threat. He was truly a force to be reckoned with.

"Then he stitched me up and stayed the night. He left the next morning and didn't see him again 'til he barged into my cabin, tellin' us to grab our stuff and go with him." Gabby is battling a stubborn stain on one of Daryl's pants that was putting up one hell of a fight. "Darn you blood," she silently cursed, oblivious to the other women. Feeling eyes on her, she turns to see both Jaqcui and Amy's eyes filled with admiration; leaving Gabby puzzled.

"So he shouts at you, but feels bad and actually helps heal you? Then he stays the night, leaves in the morning without wanting anything and then comes back to bring you all here?!" The blonde basically summarized what she had just said. "Yeah?" Gabby still did not understand the weird looks she was receiving. She was honestly getting freaked out by the impish, all knowing grins the other women were sporting.

"Wow. I can picture it now. He shyly apologizes after feeling deep regret for hurting you even if what on accident. He'd be nervous the whole night while taking care of such a beautiful woman. And after leaving you, he couldn't get you out of his mind and decides to go back and bring you so he can keep you safe and protect you." Amy was well winded after her little delusional fantasy, sighing deeply along with the other women. Gabby finally saw where their thoughts were.

"It's not…" Amy cuts into her explanation.

"Oh, how romantic; wish I could have a hot, bad boy with smoldering blue eyes and a body to match, rescue me from time to time. Lucky girl." Hearing agreements from the others, Gabby laughed. She never thought her life would be seen as some romantic fantasy or romcom, and at the end of the world to boot. She needed to set these ladies straight before gossip starts to circulate around the camps, getting to Daryl and have a weird situation between them.

"Really Amy? Ain't even like that. What you see is what you get when dealing with Daryl." She knew she was lying, but how could she explain to these people what she couldn't put into words. Daryl was a complicated man; he was hot and cold. He was still her friend and felt the need to defend him. "Dixons stick together and take care of their own. He has his own code and feels responsible for us; nothing more. Sorry to burst ya'lls fantasies."

Amy looked crestfallen, Gabby almost felt sorry for dashing her romantic expectations of her and the broody hunter. Just as fast as her frown appeared, her usual contagious smile took its place with a vengeance.

"I don't know. I still say something is going on and if it isn't then it will…eventually," taking a hard look the new comer, "Why are you so defensive anyways? I mean, have you seen him?! He's sexy!" The women nod in agreement, some even voicing their opinions on what they found specifically attractive about the residential hunter. After hearing enough about his wide shoulders and back were, how blue his electrifying eyes, and intense gaze being panty droppers; Gabby was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Wasn't that she didn't notice, but she knew if she accepted it, she would begin to see him as a man and not just a protector and friend whom happened to be male. Once she saw him in that light then there would be no going back.

'Fuck. That line was crossed the first night at the cabin.'

Amy noticed the other young woman's discomfort and internal battle. Back at home, she was known to have a sixth sense when dealing with matters of the heart and tended to believe in fairytales. She couldn't help wanting to push people in the right direction and speed things up. She just knew that Daryl and Gabby were good for each other; not perfect but they were just what the other needed. She could feel it in her gut. Her friends would always berate her for sticking her nose into others personal business, telling her that the world wasn't filled with happily-ever-afters; she didn't believe that. Daryl might not be Prince Charming or Gabby, a Damsel in distress; they were real and had something worth giving a chance. At that instance, Amy vowed to help her new friend out, push her right into the hunter's arms.

* * *

Amy's suspicious grin did not sit well with Gabby. Ignoring the only other women her age, she gets back to her war against blood stains and grime.

Gabby just finished reapplying sunscreen on Sean and Diane, even asked Carole and Lori, when she finally decided to come down there, if she would like her to put some on Sophia and Carl. No need to have the children sunburn in this blistering heat. As they ran back into the water, she caught a few words exchanged between the others. Their discussion on 'Sex On Legs Daryl' had enraptured them all, sucking Gabby in like some wormhole. After what seemed like hours of talking about Daryl this and that, Gabby could not contain herself from participating in 'girl talk'. It had been too long and she was itching to give her two cents.

"Hold on ladies, these are all good observations and all, but it's the combination of them that really gets me hot and bothered." Intrigued at her notion and amused that they finally got the new girl to admit her attraction to their topic of interest, it had those smirking like the devils they were. Giving their attention to the once shy woman; letting her speak her peace.

"Oh do tell Ms. Gutierrez, what is it that Mr. Daryl Dixon has that makes you quiver?" Jacqui teased dramatically. It has been a while since the women had this much fun gossiping about men and engaging in female talk that would have the men questioning their sanity if they ever caught wind of their discussions. It almost felt like the world hadn't gone to shit and they were just out for drinks with girlfriends.

There are moments in everyone's life that you know when you crossed a line somewhere along the way, but you were so in the moment that nothing matters and you don't care how you end up looking… that is until you do.

Grabbing her basket of freshly washed clothes, she straightens hers posture, and raises her head proudly as if what she had to say was a superior notion to theirs. In all honesty, she believed it. In two simple words, she revealed her weakness, "His strut."

There was a brief silence before uproar of female laughter surrounded them.

"His strut? What does that even mean?" Asked Amy's older sister, Andrea. Gabby did not think highly of their laughter in that moment; did they not see what she saw?

"Yeah, his strut." She eyes the women in disbelief. It was something in all women to notice every inch of desirable men and for them to be around one such as Daryl, in close proximity, and NOT notice this delicious aspect of him… well she would make them believers by the time they made it back to camp. "He walks with that confidence, all long strides on strong thighs. His hips swerve slightly as his long, tanned, and muscled arms move along them. God, have ya'll ever noticed the look he has when he 'struts' all over camp? He looks so primal, carrying his crossbow on his wide back, sweat slowly dripping down his thick tanned neck, rolling down into his cut off shirt, with those arms…damn. And ladies, he looks just as good going as he does coming." Gabby stops to take a quick breath, "Jesus, my mouth goes dry when he walks like that."

The camp's ladies were speechless and in awe as they pictured the image Gabby presented. She was quite proud of herself. This was the kind of talks she would have with her girlfriends back at home. They would say outrageous notions and opinions that led to other discussions. All in good fun; it felt almost normal.

Gabby thinks she hears something beyond the tree line of the quarry, but was not sure over the sound of conversation in front of her. 'Well…as normal as we can get, with corpses walking around looking to kill us.' Keeping alert, she tells the woman she would return after hanging her clothes and retrieving more.

"Okay. Just don't get distracted by Dixon's strut!", came the jesting voice of Amy. She would have flicked her off if Diane hadn't been watching, instead giving the blonde a mocking glare.

Collecting her things and making sure her kids walked in front of her, she made her way back to their camp.

* * *

Getting to Camp Dixon had been difficult while carrying their wet clothes. As they got up the hill they could hear Merle laughing insanely. 'One of the other campers must'a fallen on their ass again.' Gabby thought nothing of it since it happened more often than not, but as Merle spotted her coming through the tree line his chuckles increased to a worrying volume. Daryl ignored his brother's cackles and fiddled with his favorite hunting knife. Taking a page from Daryl's book, she also ignored Merle's odd behavior and pushed her kids towards the tent to change into dry clothes. Starting to hang their newly washed clothes to dry on their makeshift clothesline, Merle settles down and speaks to her in a serious tone as if he hadn't been out of sorts.

"How was yer day, sugar tits?"

"Oh, you know, chores here and there. Constantly watching my back for things trying to eat me. I'm just gonna' hang theses shirts before I gotta go and wash the rest of yer filthy clothes." With her back still to her boys, " Do ya own anything with sleeves Daryl? Or is it so ya can flaunt your 'guns' for the ladies." Merle snickers a bit and Daryl just tosses him a glare, which resulted in setting him off into another fit of chuckles again. Baffled at Merle's behavior, Gabby sends Daryl a questioning look just to be ignored. Finishing up, she picks up her basket to retrieve some more clothes to wash just as Sean and Diane rushed out the tent, discarding their soaked clothes in the basket.

"Stay here with Merle and Daryl kiddos." They just nod as they run around the campsite playing tag. Before making her way back to the quarry, Merle's next words cause her to freeze and drop the basket. "I see it might be easier if ya jus' asked Darleena 'er ta help ya carry tha' heavy basket. It won' be hard fer 'im to _strut _down back there wit' the rest of 'em horny bitches." He laughs at her horror stricken face.

"Holy fuckin' baby Jesus. They heard me.' Taking a gamble, she looks at Daryl's direction just to have it confirmed that they indeed heard. He was red all the way to the tips of his ears. Swallowing her pride, she metaphorically pulls her big girl panties on and confronts the highly embarrassing situation head on.

"So I take it ya'll heard us talkin' down there," Merle's eat shit grin grew impossibly larger. It wasn't a secret that he was amused. She would give anything at that moment to be able to wipe that smug grin off his face. Instead of getting mad or cry out of humiliation, she decided to just run with it. She was already screwed, why not have some fun with it and turn it into a funny memory.

"Maybe I should." This got their attention. "Jus' 'cuz the world went to shit doesn't mean I can't enjoy myself a little eye candy." She makes sure to wink at Daryl for good measure.

Merle is impressed by her sass. There weren't a lot of people that he cared for other than his brother and himself. Everyone would become Walker food if he had his way, but this little firecracker was alright. Anyone who could take his shit and throw it back at him was okay by him. Hell, her tykes were smarter than most of the adults from the other group. They paid attention when he would give them some survival lesson and knew they would put it to good use.

"Whoo – wee liddol brudder, ya got yerself one helluva woman right there," slapping him joyfully on the back, "got me feelin' a liddol jealous." Rolling her eyes at the older Dixon's hazing on Daryl, she clears her throat loudly to get their attention. Seeing as her previous embarrassment had been slightly forgotten, her playful mood lingered.

"Don't worry about be Daryl, I can handle this," she could see he was still flustered from the teasing. "Besides," she pauses as she bends down to pick up the fallen basket. Making sure to slowly collect the fallen clothes so they could get a good look at her backside, "wouldn't want the other girls to see ya." Putting a little more swing in her hips as she takes her leave from the campsite, "I don't do well at sharing." She giggles at their slacken jaws.

'Never underestimate a nice ass.'

* * *

There ya'll go. Let me know what ya'll think.


End file.
